Love for the Sea
by LadyGranuaille
Summary: Sequel to 'Sparrow and the Swan'. Jack and Lizzie continue on their adventures to reclaim the heart of Davy Jones, encountering danger, romance and humor along the way. Mild and some suggestive language.
1. Chapter 1

_I know, I know. I own nothing. Trust me, if I did, I wouldn't have confused the plot lines in DMC so much. _

_I certainly don't own the lyrics of "A Pirate's Life for me. For that, I credit the Mouse. "javascript:parent.closeit()". Compliments of Walt Disney._

_Oh yeah, the pre-quel to this Fic is called 'The Sparrow and the Swan". It has two 'companion' type Fics, "Desperate Men", dealing with Norrington, Beckett and a little Davy Jones, and also "The Summoning", dealing with Will, Barbossa, Gibbs and the rest of the crew. There'll be a final sequel to all three, but I'm yet sure what I'll call it. Enjoy!_

Chapter One: Discovering

Jack watched Elizabeth brush her hair. Since they'd lowered sails at Port Royale, she'd been making all efforts to improve her looks. Full of a previously unknown patience, she had men bring back a few liters of warm soapy water in addition to what was needed for stores. She'd used this to wash her shifts and stockings, though he suspected she wore neither, and then finally her hair. As she squeezed the last drops from the strands, he found his mind wandering and wondering about the young woman on board his ship.

Seducing her would be easy. He'd already learned the most important facts. She was easily charmed by his humor, rather than his usual foray of smooth talking. Laughing made her put her guard down. Good. He could be funny. Captain Jack Sparrow: funniest man on the sea.

But he couldn't find the strength to even speak to her without an important reason. The idea of purposely tricking her into doing something against her better judgment made him feel…unclean. Ever since he'd decided to be a 'good man', life seemed to have lost its former luster. Or was it just the lust? Yes, he knew very well how it would go with Lizzie if he failed to practice self-restraint. She'd be fooled into thinking it was something...emotional. Jack stuck out his tongue at the thought of such silly sentiments. She'd fall for him, than he would stick to the pirates' code; "Take what ye can, give nothin' back!" He will have certainly found something else to fascinate him by then, and would leave her. Turner would be there to pick up the pieces...maybe. Otherwise, even Norrington was there. Captain Idiot. Jack stood up from the railing he'd been leaning on, and walked on into his quarters. Elizabeth watched him as he walked by, but said nothing.

Norrington's name had set off an alarm in his mind, a reminder of something important.

Ah, yes, Jamesy. They'd made berf at Port Royale. Were even being guarded. Lord Becket had found it necessary to evaluate the crewmen before allowing any of them on shore. But Jack knew his intentions. He was searching for pirates. And the Interceptor II, now void of any markings or titles as most ships had, was very suspicious indeed. Jack had wanted to put a new title on the sides, but the mate informed him that wasn't any better. An unregistered ship was even worse then a nameless one. At least a nameless ship could be 'receiving a new porter on her skin'. Jack found these men from Norrington's crew relatively easy to manipulate, even for Navy gits. Until Lewis had explained that he and the rest of the crew had not 'voluntarily' enlisted. According to the first mate's knowledge, Lord Beckett couldn't expend any more men to Norrington. When Jack had asked why it was that the favorite pet of the now infamous Lord Becket wasn't allowed any royally trained men, he received a numbing answer,

"I thought ye knew? Well, while he Norrington was pursuing ye off the coast of Trinidad…that storm"

Jack smiled, recalling the pursuit. He'd given the captain the slip in the fog of an oncoming storm.

"Well, the Captain, he thought it was a minor swell of sorts, but it turned out to be much worse."

The man paused, collecting his thoughts, or perhaps his emotions. It was difficult to tell with this type. Jack nodded in encouragement, he was curious.

"As I said, it turned out to be a bad one. What the locals call a hurricane. No survivors but Norrington 'isself. He stayed onboard the ship, but the crew was lost in the storm. Nothing to give 'em shelter from the howling winds and tossing waves."

Jack dropped his head in solemnity. For any captain, losing his entire crew would put quite a blemish on his record, no to mention his pride.

But Jack still didn't understand one thing,

"If its not too prying…if Beckett would not extend any more crewmen to said Captain Norrington, how is it that I managed to commandeer an entire crew from him?"

The mate looked confused,

"Meaning us?"

"Aye, meaning you."

"We're not 'is majesty's men, no. Most of us is lawbreakers, of the common type, taken off the merry ol' streets o' London town and set down in a ship."

So, the men, or most of them, were crooked to begin with. Good, Jack knew how to deal with that type. Rousing him from his reveries, Lewis now informed Jack that he had dispatched the ransom note to Norrington's office. Written as though it were from Jones himself, it outlined the procedure of exchanging Elizabeth for the Heart. Sparrow was slightly nervous that Navy Boy might see right through it to the truth. But it was a necessary risk. He thanked Lewis, and dismissed the man. After he was gone, Jack tried to work on his maps. But he could find no focus. Instead, he left the small captain's office, and locked it. He began to pace the decks-it helped him think.

He heard Elizabeth sigh in her sleep as he passed her chamber. He stopped and peered in. She lay on the rough cot, obviously uncomfortable. Jack smirked; she was used to a soft feather-down mattress. This life on the sea certainly wouldn't suit her. Besides, she did look much better in a dress...or nothing at all. Those ridiculous sailor rags just didn't suit her. She had changed back into a dress, against her wish, but according to his. It made the men nervous to have her walking about in men's clothes, or so Jack had told her. As he thought of her, Jack began to muse on what that kiss really meant. Did she have feelings for him? Not the sappy 'love' she had for Will. Jack had no interest in such things…or at least that's what he'd told himself all these years, ever since Victoria. Must not think about that…His thoughts returned to Elizabeth, and he began to seriously consider what might be there. But she could never get used to this rough life. Not to mention she would probably just fall in love with the sea, instead of him. Wait, what was he thinking? He shook his skull, hoping to dislodge the heady feelings. But it was pointless to assault his mind-the feelings were in his heart.

Elizabeth started. She'd been woken by that familiar tinkling sound of metal, what was that again? Her mind pushed through the barriers of drowsiness to remember. Jack's hair trinkets. She opened her eyes to squint at him. He didn't seem to notice her consciousness. She continued to stare. His usually vacant expression was replaced by one of deep sorrow.

"Now what?" she thought.

She heard him mutter something, but wasn't sure what he'd said. It had sounded like,

"My first and only love is the sea."

Yes, that must be it. He'd said that before. She felt a pang in her heart at this thought. For a little while, she'd thought he might actually care for her. But, no. He was a pirate...and a good man. Her mind argued with itself,

"But that doesn't mean he'll ever give up wenching. Or any of his other bad habits."

"No, but one can adjust to life. Build resilience, character."

Why was she fighting with her own better judgment? Sparrow, even if he was a good man, had just said it. His first and only love was the sea. But what about her? She allowed her eyes to open a little more. He was rubbing his forehead. Probably from a hangover. And don't forget the rum. Nothing could separate that man from his bottle.

"Da-da-duh, and something...about sheep? Or was it eggs?"

He was obviously staggering drunk. Then again, he always seemed drunk. She recalled the lyrics of the song she'd taught him on that island. He'd certainly had too much to drink that night.

"_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. _

_We pillage plunder, we rifle and loot. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. _

_We extort and pilfer, we filch and sack. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_Maraud and embezzle and even highjack. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me. _

_We kindle and char and in flame and ignite. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_We burn up the city, we're really a fright. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_We're rascals and scoundrels, we're villians and knaves. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_We're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs. _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_We're beggars and blighters and ne'er do-well cads, _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads, _

_Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. _

_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me_."

Elizabeth was suddenly hit with an overwhelming pity for this man. She wondered if he'd ever even known his parents, or was he like Will? And even if he'd been allowed to know them before setting out on his slippery-slope existence, what had they done to set him on such a course? Perhaps she would never know, but she wanted to. It made no sense that she should-what difference did it make? He didn't need, much less want, her compassion.

"You know, Lizzie, I can tell you're awake."

His voice was so warm. No, he didn't need her condolence- he had his rum. She almost asked him why he was in her cabin, but decided she didn't want to know the answer.

"How?"

"Well, for starters, your breathing became less shallow, but the real give-away was when I saw your eyes flutter open."

She didn't know what to say. An awkwardness she'd never felt between the two of them enveloped the room. He softly snorted, shook his head and looked up, seeming to ask whatever god existed, "Why me?"

"You should get some sleep, pet. Big day tomorrow."

And with that, he stalked out of the room. She eventually fell asleep, after hours of fitful tossing and turning. Her rest was continually interrupted with visions of unpleasant things happening to Will. Every time she rushed in to try to save him, Jack would appear in the way and pull her into a heady kiss. When she looked up, Will was dead. She rushed to his side. His brown eyes flashed open, and he screamed at her,

"PIRATE!"

Waking with terror in her heart, and regret in her breast, Elizabeth sat straight up. The motion wasn't finished, however, because the low ceiling got in the way of her forehead.

THUNK!

"Ow! Ugh, that's going to leave a mark."

She smacked the edge of the fixture, out of some form of inanimate spite. The sound echoed- as though it were hollow.

Jack had heard the first sound, and had come running to see what it was. He slowed to a jog as he realized he'd never run to anyone's aide before. Jumped into the ocean and swam a couple thousand meters, yes, but run? He stopped outside her door, having heard the second reverberating sound. He pressed his ear against the door, knowing full well her thinking out-loud would get the best of her.

"Hello..." she said to the hidden compartment, "What do we have here?"

She now knocked on it, searching for where the sound was deepest. Thunk, thunk, thunk, Thump! She smiled at her own genius.

"Now, how to open it?"

Jack heard a sound that was all too relishing to his pirate ears. It was the sound of a long-shut coffer being opened. His eyebrows lowered in frustration, he had had Lewis expose all the strongholds onboard except for those in Elizabeth's quarters. He hadn't wanted to disturb her, and besides, he didn't think that Norrington could have been so besotted as to put Elizabeth in a room if it contained anything valuable. Now he wondered why Navy Boy had hidden whatever-it-was in this room, but nothing in all the others.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Apprehension

Elizabeth was disappointed to find a small locked box. It looked as though it required a key to open, a key she did not have. She set the thing down and went over her options. Keep the thing hidden, and work on it with different pieces of metal to see if it could be picked. Another option was to tell Jack and see if he had any ideas, but this didn't appeal to her. Or, she could wait till they made contact with Norrington and maybe bargain. She decided on a combination of the last two-whatever was inside might be valuable to them immediately, not a year from now. Jack was a pirate; certainly he might know a way to open locked chests without the key. She stood to go find the Captain.

Jack heard her stand up in the room and felt the vibrations of her feet carry her to the door. Panicking, he dashed into the adjoining room to hide. She walked past him, with a rush of air and determination. He peeked out to watch as she went by. He looked the other direction to see if anyone was there and carefully snuck into her room. He smiled upon seeing the chest sitting there, on the cot. It was a small, dusty thing with nothing particularly interesting about it. The lock itself was small, but complex. Sparrow could tell immediately it would never pick lose. Picking it up, he turned it over on all sides to inspect it for a weak spot, but found none. He shook it softly, heard a sliding noise. Shook it harder and heard a rattle.

"Jack, what are you doing?!"

He jumped up, spun around and managed to knock the box onto the ground. It shattered. Both stared at its contents as they lay on the ground between the two. Knitting her brows in consternation, Elizabeth slowly kneeled to further inspect them. She took the lamp from its holder off the wall, and lowered it to the floor. There were a collection of outlandish looking medallions on lengths on rope, each long enough to be hung about the neck. They were made of some, hard black stone. The pendants themselves were just wider than a woman's locket. Each was different, but all were similar in one respect. The symbol of the Bermuda Triangle was imprinted on the back side of all of them. Also in the box was a piece of manuscript. Elizabeth picked it up to read it, but after unrolling it, found it to be covered in strange symbols she didn't comprehend. Jack looked over her shoulder and scowled,

"Feng."

No, she thought, the stones were not fangs, what was Jack talking about? Then she realized 'Feng' must be a person.

"Who's Feng?"

Jack sighed deeply and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Imagine Barbossa, only younger and stronger."

Elizabeth started slightly at the name of Jack's mutinist mate. Did Sparrow know? No, he couldn't...

Jack saw the look that passed over her face when he said the formerly cursed man's name. It was a look of terror, of a secret kept but threatened.

He continued,

"Then, make him a score of times more evil and cut-throat. Finally, pretend he's in league with the East India Trading Company, but flies a Jolly Rouge. And that's who Feng is."

"So, he's a privateer? But Jack, that's what they wanted you to be."

Recalling the low price offered him for such a foul service with disgust, Jack continued on.

"No, he's not a privateer. Much worse, he's a bounty hunter."

He crossed over to where Elizabeth held the parchment and took it from her limp fingers. She was too confused to protest. Luckily, it was in Mandarin, not one of the other dialects. His eyes flashed over the page and the expression on his face grew more worried as he went.

Elizabeth let him finish, a test of self-control, before asking what it said.

"Jack? Did you hear me? What does it say?"

He had heard her, but didn't have the heart to say what the message contained. The Brethren were gathering, and the English Navy knew. Why hadn't he been contacted? Well, there had been that incident with Flint, man couldn't take a joke. Then he eerily recalled he'd been...dead. Yes, that's what had been bugging him this whole time. He remembered darkness, and then a flash of green light. He wouldn't have shown up on the charts if he was dead. His hand crept up to a piece of frayed rope around his neck, and he followed it to a pendant. He pulled it out and turned it over. The Triangle glinted with an odd purple light as it rolled on his palm.

Elizabeth saw the pendant and realized it was like the rest from the box. He's somehow connected, she thought. Well, no big surprise there. If there was something mystical and dangerous, no doubt Jack Sparrow was involved.

Jack knew that wasn't the worst part of the news. Turner and crew had been captured off the coast of Fiji. Among those captured, other notable names included the presumed dead Barbossa and a rum-runner, Gibbs. Jack smiled, remembering the good times he'd spent with Captain Morgan.

A slap from Elizabeth brought him back to his senses.

Knowing he'd deserved that, he simply glared at her.

"Well? What does it say? Or have you been staring at it trying to play chess?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just your "husband" and all 'is Navy pals 'appen to know when and where the Brethren'll be gathering. And, to make it even better, I wasn't invited."

"The Brethren? Oh-but that's, how? Feng?"

Jack nodded, motioned to the various pendants,

"He must've killed all these worthy swashbucklers looking for headings."

"But Jack, now we have them. Doesn't that mean that the Navy doesn't?"

Sparrow pondered this,

"Hard to say, love. He could've already told the EITC, or Norrington might've sent ahead a copy, like we know he's so fond of doing. Or we might have been inescapably lucky."

He had now started going through the pendants, muttering words of condolence to each.

"Well, looks as though Drake and Bellany should be there, and ah good, Granuaille, wonderful woman. Oh, bugger, they got William Knight and Edward Davis. Ay, Bonny too."

Elizabeth's eyebrows crossed even further in confusion. Weren't all those pirates...dead? Oh no, Jack was delusional.

"Jack...I know you respect those men and women, but aren't they all...dead?"

Jack turned and gave her a shocked look. She didn't know! And with all her childhood studying, she didn't know. He knew she'd seen Barbossa come back. Well, she hadn't said it, but it was obvious in how she'd reacted when he'd said the man's name. Her eyes had flashed with a vehemence Jack was used to receiving from women when they heard his name or saw his face. Barbossa had never been popular among the ladies.

"Lizzie, I know ye've heard of World's End?"

She nodded. That's where William had gone, oh God, William! What is he sailing into? Many pirates had developed certain lore of immortality about 'World's End'. But that was ridiculous. Then again, there was that undead crew on the Black Pearl, and that other undead crew on the Flying Dutchmen. Alright, maybe.

"Well, all a pirate, or any man who can sail, has to do when he's died is make it back from World's End."

"And why would one do that?"

"Well, because this world was just so much fun in the first place!"

He said this sarcastically, so Elizabeth gave up. She had wanted to ask him why he hadn't been informed about the foray, but decided not to. He seemed to have been genuinely offended by not being invited to the Gathering. Instead, she asked,

"Is that all? There's nothing else important in there?"

Jack didn't consider telling her for a moment about William. So, he nodded his head, hoping she wouldn't be able to tell he was lying. He felt a pang of guilt as she looked as though she accepted it for truth. He was certain that the crew and Will had been painfully tortured for information, than killed. There was no reason to tell her that.

"Jack, what happens when a man goes to World's End but he hasn't died?"

"You mean intentionally sail to the End of the World? Well, first, he's a git. But I suppose, he'd end up in Purgatory or somewhat like that. You tell me, Lizzie, I haven't been to church since I last tasted jemmies."

Elizabeth didn't know. From what she'd read of the Bible, it said nothing about undead monkeys or magical hearts, and certainly nothing about the End's of the Earth. Shrugging her shoulders,

"It's just that Tia Dalma, she sent them there."

Here, she paused and looked up at Jack questioningly,

"To get you. Jack, I must know. How did you escape the Kraken?"

He swallowed deeply. He had tried fighting the beast off, but had been...eaten.

"I didn't, love. I didn't."

Elizabeth was speechless. He'd died, and-but. Realization dawned on her. Of course, that's how he knew so much. He'd been through it. She picked up the medallion with a few recognizable symbols on it. There was a ship, The Queen Anne's Revenge, and a flag. It contained a skeleton holding a sword and a heart.

"This is Black Beard's, isn't it?"

Jack looked at it,

"Aye. He was with the Pearl last I saw. But Pintel and Ragetti got free, so I suppose he did too."

He turned it over, saw the scorched Triangle,

"But not for long."

He let it fall to the floor. Something had just occurred to him. How had Turner and crew made it clear to Fiji already? It had only been one, maybe two weeks since he'd washed up on Tortuga. How long had he been gone?

"Did Dalma go with them?"

"I...don't remember. She was at the port, but..." She trailed off, not understanding what difference that would make,

"Why?"

"Because that would explain a good deal. And, it would also be dear William's only prayer. This would also explain where all the Navy officers are. Poor Norrington must be so lost without his faithful Gillette."

He said this to himself. He stood and began to pace the decks again. It was now morning; he had been awake the entire night trying to figure things out. The sun crept across the port, creating silhouettes. The crew was just starting to get up, each tipping his hat as he passed the captain. Jack sighed in deep regret at the state of things. He longed for the day in which he could just stare out at the sparkling sea, without worries. As though this reminded him of the things at hand, he forced his mind to focus.

The Navy was trying to round up the pirates headed for the Brethren. All those sprees on that many crews must be taxing. But how were they doing it? Most of the Brethren had protective devices of more than the standard caliber...The Heart. What he'd been here for in the first place. They were using the Heart to control Jones and his crew. It all made sense now. Why he'd come back. They'd summoned him, from beyond his watery grave, to steal the Heart back. This was bad news indeed, if Jones was working for His Majesty's Navy, than a threatening note from him would mean nothing to Norrington.

"Well, that's a blighter in your plans, isn't it mate?"

Whose voice was that?

"If anybody could pirate it back, it was Jack Sparrow."

Who'd said that? Oh no, it's another voice in my head...as if my new found conscience wasn't enough.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth had been having her own thoughts. She followed him across the planks of the deck, but staying out of his way. She'd never seen him so deep in concentration and decided it was best to let him be. But then, her curiosity was too persistent to ignore.

"Jack, how many times can you sail back from World's End?"

"It's not like you just die, dust yourself off and come back again. There has to be a reason, Lizzie. The Brethren have to…summon you back. That's what the medallions are for."

He stopped his walking and turned to face her,

"To come back, a captain must hand off his medallion to his first mate. The first mate then has two options. He can either assume the role of captain, and someday pass off the duty to another. Or, if 'is captain was worthy, the mate would travel around till he found another one of the Brethren and beg for his captain to be summoned. That sort of thing doesn't happen too often. But when it does, the Brethren have one of their Gatherings. That's why all these pirates are done for"

He motioned to the pile of medallions,

"Only a captain's first mate can bring 'im back. All these sea dog's and their crews, first mate and all, are as cold as your shoulder."

He smiled good-naturedly at Elizabeth, but she ignored the remark.

Elizabeth was curious to learn even more about the Brethren, but decided against it. Jack had begun to look agitated. He pulled on his braided beard in deep concentration.

There'd been another thing, who'd summoned him back? He'd never been a captain in the Brethren, but had always tagged along, first mate to one man or another. How had he gotten a medallion? Upon closer inspection, it had a sparrow on it, and a perfect miniature of the Black Pearl. Strange, not only had he been summoned, but he'd also achieved actual membership. No longer was he just a first mate to them, but a bonafide captain. But it came with a price. He had to regain the Heart. Well, that doesn't really change things, that had been the plan all along. Glad to have all of the facts out in the open, and someone else sober enough to remember them, Jack smiled, a genuine smile of joy, for the first time since he'd come back.

"Well, now Lizzie, what do you gather our next step should be? Norrington is most likely back at Port Royale, having walked the distance from the south peninsula inland. Must have an amazing since of direction..."

"Or a compass. A compass!! Oh, Jack, of course, why didn't I think of it before?"

"Perhaps because you were entirely distracted by your dashing company."

She looked him up and down,

"Hardly. Unless, you mean by his smell. But that is quite beside the point. I still have your compass! Perhaps it could just show us where the Heart is, no need to wait around for Norrington to bite the bait."

She handed the heirloom to Sparrow, who looked at it sheepishly. He turned it so that only he could see where it pointed. Elizabeth tipped her head up to try and see. Catching her intention, he glared, and spun to face his back to her. The tiny arrow spun from facing west, back around to him. Choosing to ignore what that really meant, he tossed it over his shoulder.

"Bloody thing doesn't work. I think you were right, must be broken."

Elizabeth ducked forward to catch it, Jack caught the sight of her as he turned back around. Her hair had rippled in the motion, like the sea, and again her lips formed the 'o' of surprise. Deciding he had never had to take no for an answer before, he certainly wasn't going to start now. Whether it was love or lust, Jack Sparrow would have his way. He struck forward, into obviously unchartered regions.

"Lizzie, darling, you know, there isn't a remarkably good chance that William is going to survive. And I find it incredibly fallacious and in bad taste for you to become one of those women."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Elizabeth was shocked, but not at what he'd said. But at how much since it made. Granted, it was undoubtedly nothing more than a new tactic in Sparrow's bag o' tricks to seduce her, but it had its points. She was slightly disappointed that she was at the point where she felt nearly nothing for Will any more. She didn't miss him, what was there to miss? Jack's devilish expression reminded her; Will was tender and caring, where as Jack was neither, unless it suited his needs. William loved her-he would never betray her. If she truly loved him, than she wouldn't be able to betray him, right? Even if he was dead? She knew what Jack meant by 'one of those women'; the often beautiful, innocent women whose first and only love died at sea. They lost their beauty over time, but mournfully retained their innocence.

"And just what is your point, Mr. Sparrow? That you should save me from said fate of unwed bride?"

Jack hadn't been expecting this. He had no interest in being tied down-that's why he'd left land in the first place! No, he had simply been trying to...well, there's no way around it, work things to his advantage. Figuring honesty was the best way of this, he started to tell her,

"Elizabeth, you and I-"

He stopped short.

"What now Jack, yet another try at me? Jack?"

He stared in horror at the oncoming sight. Elizabeth turned to look at what was holding Sparrow's concentration.

"Oh my God..."

She gasped. The Flying Dutchmen and crew had just come into port. Jack's eyes widened, than squinted. While Elizabeth was thus distracted, he snuck a peek at his palm. The Black Spot was still gone, how could Jones know where he was? In a daze, Elizabeth walked deftly in the direction of the Dutchmen. She brought her hands up to cover her ears as a roaring noise erupted from the surface. Jack nimbly stepped back, on to the lower deck and into the captain's cabin. He started throwing things off the shelves, searching for the maps.

Hearing the heavy thudding and clanking coming from the lower deck, Elizabeth headed that way. Lewis had come up from the kitchens, nearly crashing into her,

"What's goin' on, Lassie?"

In response, she pointed to the Flying Dutchmen.

"Holy tourniquets"

The mate crossed himself, and turned to Jack's cabin. He opened the door and quickly ducked. An empty bottle of some unidentified substance came flying towards Elizabeth. It smashed on her abdomen. She screamed, having been already upset, as shards of glass sliced into her flesh.

Jack fought back his newly acquired desire to help. His current occupation was too important. Peering over the maps, he used the pendant and an iridescent powder.

"Blessed be the Brethren,

in all their ventures

In supplication of these,

I am indentured,

Show me the path,

winding though it be,

That which I may follow,

and leads to safe serenity."

As he recited the incantation, his facial features expressed his personal doubt that any effect would occur. He sprinkled some of the powder over the map and passed his pendant over the paper, counter-clockwise. Nothing happened; he began to scratch his face sores in agitation. But then, the powder began to reform from its position. It traced a path from Port Royale east, than south. Farther south still. Jack's eyes showed his fear of the inevitable. The sand arranged itself in a burst of flame in the dead center of the Bermuda Triangle. He let the remainder of the parchment burn to ashes, and cursed his luck.

Meanwhile, Lewis had turned to Elizabeth to help her. He switched out his knife, ready to pour liquor on it and remove whatever he could,

"I rather think not!"

"Aye, but I do! Now, come on, skin fairer then yers 'as had worse scars! If it's not removed, it'll be the death of yea to be sure!"

Her cries of protest, in earnest fear, finally brought Jack out of his reverie of anger. He stood up and came upon Lewis standing over Elizabeth with a dagger in his hand. Sparrow's face flamed with anger when he saw soft red spots, blooming across her belly. He drew his sword, smarted his mate's dagger hand and bent to Elizabeth's aide.

Elizabeth nearly fainted at the sight of yet another man coming at her with a weapon drawn. But was shocked back into consciousness when she realized Jack was, in his own misconstrued way, playing the hero.

"Lizzie, are you alright?"

His voice had suddenly lost all of its husky masculinity. It held the quiver of a child whose mother lie on her deathbed. It was not at all becoming. Jack mistook her look of lost affection as a sign of pain. He repeated his question, in a slightly more authoritative tone.

"I would be if you hadn't thrown that bottle out!"

She gasped in pain as he softly lifted the fabric that had been torn to look at the wounds. She fought back all her instincts to not slap him away. He maintained all professional attitude towards her, however. He swallowed, but his throat was too dry and it produced an odd clicking noise.

"Which bottle hit you?"

She looked at him, face full of confusion. What difference did that make? But he didn't wait around for her answer. He stood up and found the rest of the vessel. He mouthed a few incoherent words. This was the bottle that the enchanted sand had come from. He rushed back to Elizabeth, and nearly ripped her corset as he again inspected the wounds,

"Oh bugger."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Awareness

"What? Don't you oh-bugger me, Jack Sparrow!"

She leaned over to look at her own torn flesh, expecting pain to race her heart. But instead, an odd tingling sensation had occurred. She saw what he'd "oh-bugger"ed about. Her skin was healed over, but at a terrible cost. It had aged, turning yellow and cured looking. She ran her fingers over the spots. The flesh felt like leather. Jack pointed a finger at one and poked it. It was hard, as though the glass was still beneath the skin.

"Well that's interesting"

Elizabeth finally let her instincts go-she slapped his hand away. Jumping back in mock pain, he gave her a hurt expression. The now-healed wounds faintly glowed. A soft light emanated from them that had the same purple color as the sand. He stroked his beard,

"That's very interesting. You know, I think I recognize-"

He was cut short by a roar. He'd nearly forgotten about their current predicament in his caretaking of Elizabeth. Ever since the first time he'd saved her from drowning, it had become a personal obligation for him to protect her. He stood up, slowly, and peered over the edge of the railings. Not only was the Flying Dutchmen in port, it had brought Jones' favorite pet. Jack smiled darkly at his executioner. Unlike Jack, the Kraken looked the worse for wear. Its flesh appeared to be torn in places- Sparrow was shocked when he found out why. Various Navy crewmen were aboard the Dutchmen. Ignoring the oceanic visage of their fellow sailors, they walked the decks. Every once in a while, one of them would point at the beastie, mockingly, and throw some sharp object at it. Instead of bouncing off of its thick hide, spears, swords and daggers stuck into the flesh. Worse yet, it had been lashed to the starboard side with a tangle of nets.

Jack decided sticking around would be a waste of time, and a dangerous idea. Negotiating with Norrington for the heart was a bust venture. Jones and crew were enslaved to the Lord Cutler Beckett.

The first mate was still nursing his hurt hand, and glaring at the couple. He'd only been trying to help, and now the girl had the glass stuck in her skin like a sow. But you didn't argue with Captain Jack Sparrow. Lewis stood and awaited orders. Jack saw this, and addressed the man,

"I think we ought to head towards the Banshee's Port, don't you mate?"

Understanding the code for Bermuda Triangle, Lewis again crossed himself,

"So it's true? Anything is better than Jones?"

Jack just glared in answer. The mate roused the rest of the crew, those willing began to work the sails for the long journey, and as quietly as possible. Attracting the attention of those on shore would be disastrous. About ten men, however, were sorely against putting their lives in further peril. They elected an escaped slave as their orator-he being taller than the rest.

"We be wantin' to stay here in dis land. No more sailin wid a pirate wut does no pirating. And den goin in to dat Bermuda Triangle. "

He spat and those behind him followed suite to enact a counter curse,

"We no be wantin to have no mutiny, Mister Sparrow. But if you won't be loanin us none ub de boats, we'll be 'aving no uder options."

He fingered a jagged dagger and smiled. Jack wasn't accustomed to forcing men against their will, perhaps part of the reason he lost the Pearl, so he smiled back.

"Well, gentlemen. It appears that you have left me with two excellent options. Seeing as we are in such great favor with one another"

He paused, mulling over the details of reality,

"I shall indeed loan you one of the long boats for your travels and wish you luck. However, I make one request."

The men had been goo-fawing, but upon hearing this, they hushed and waited.

"You will not, under any circumstances, run to His Majesty's Navy and inform them of anything that has occurred. Are we clear?"

To emphasize his seriousness, he pulled back his jacket to reveal a pistol.

"But wud if dey be askin us how Mister Norrington be off ub dis boat?"

"Tell them Miss Swan stranded him, using her feminine wiles,"

Elizabeth hiccupped a startled gasp of anger, but Jack held up a finger,

"And the rest of the crew took off with her as their she-pirate captain. You can even embellish a bit and say…you put up a fight, but they made you walk the plank. Seeing as she and I will be gone with the rest of the crew, there will be no conflict of interests. And that is my final order as your captain. You may leave immediately."

Jack made his real meaning of 'may', being 'had better', clear with a gunshot.

"Savvy?"

As the others began to gather their meager supplies and prepare a boat, one lingered and stared at Jack,

"Whud you be a meanin by 'walk de plank?'"

Jack shook his head and was going to explain the finer points of execution within a pirate democracy, but the man was distracted by something shiny.

The abandoners took less than five minutes to gather their belongings, and were gone.

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew had prepared the ship for the voyage. Shouts, necessary for the coordination of leaving port, were heard across the decks,

"Pull line!"

"Lift anchor!"

"Sails down, billow 'er east!"

Jack assumed the helm, and they were off. Elizabeth felt the ship lurch as it picked up speed. She turned to watch Port Royale. She stayed there until the horizon swallowed up the palm trees so familiar to her. She than looked down to hide her tears. She had not even been able to see her father. An un-stifled sob escaped her as a dark thought swept through her. She would probably never see him again.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

Jack looked down at her, on the lower deck. Even from the helm he could tell she was crying. He felt guilt climb up his throat. No telling what sort of pain those wounds were causing her. But no matter how much it was, he knew she was to prideful to let anyone see her hurt. He vowed to himself that first thing he saw Tia Dalma again, he'd get the voodoo woman to do whatever it took to heal Lizzie. Well, first thing after he had all this business with the Brethren ordered out. And then, that bit with Jones. Oh, and he had to make his peace with Turners Sr. and Jr. And make sure he had something to fall back on once all this blew over.

Once he was sure the ship was pointed well enough towards the proper headings, he had the first mate take the helm. Elizabeth was now staring out over the aft, watching the sunset behind them.

"Don't stare too long at it, Lizzie. I always used to do that, but then you've got the glaring morning son to head into all the next day. Besides, we've the fastest ship in the Spanish Maine. If someone's following us, we've no worries."

"I suppose that's what did it to you, then? Sun-sickness. That's what William suspected."

Jack smiled good-naturedly. People often assumed his often eccentric mannerism was due to some mental illness. But finding her in good humor, he decided to play to it. Assuming a mocking-hurt look,

"You don't really think I'm mad, do you Lizzie?"

She laughed, lightly. But her eyes softened, and Jack knew he'd accomplished what he'd aimed to.

"Only as mad as you feel, my nurse used to say"

"You had a nurse, eh? Suppose your mother was a fine woman than, not wantin' a baby girl hanging onto her apron strings"

"I never knew my mother"

"Oh, I'm…sorry Elizabeth."

Flustered, Jack tried to think of something to change the subject.

"How are those wounds, from that glass? Not hurtin, I hope. If they are, I've drink that'll cure any pain"

He winked at her. But her look made him feel contemptible. He thought to himself,

_Great job, Jackie, now the girl thinks you just want to get her drunk. Wait-that is what I want, isn't it? Maybe that's what I might have wanted before, but not now. Not many men get a second chance at life-well, perhaps the existence of the Brethren made the statement less weighty, but that was beside the point._

"No, Jack. You need not fret over me. The wounds cause me no pain, only a slight tingling. Like fingers just touching the flesh. A sensation I prefer over the warm confusion of rum."

She turned to him and gave an open look of evaluation. She was perfectly aware of the suggestiveness of what she'd just said. She was curious to see just how fool proof the 'new' Jack was. He might try to hide it, but he was a changed man. Besides, what he said about Will was probably true, and she'd decided she no longer held any feelings for him any way. She stepped up close to him, right up to his face.

Jack swallowed nervously, and backed up.

"Well, that's good. I was afraid that you were experiencing something un-pleasure…um, er, un-pleasant."

Satisfied that he was indeed changed, she leaned back on to her heels. Elizabeth found herself caught up in a flurry of emotions, too confusing to pursue her present course of action safely.

"But I thank you for your concern, Jack. And everything else. Good-night."

She walked off, down the stairs, by the last fading light of the day.

He sighed, kissed the empty air where she'd stood moments before, and said

"Good-night, Elizabeth."

The Interceptor II, without identification, continued East from Port Royale for half a fortnight, than veered sharply South-East. Tracking her, and using the same headwinds, was The Flying Dutchmen with crew and the Kraken in tow. Closely tailing Jones, a small merchant galley. Coming from all compass points, a fleet of unearthly vessels pursued the same point on the map. The very center of the Bermuda Triangle-the Point of Summoning.

_The End….stay tuned for sequel!_


End file.
